Happiness Is Only Relative
by Pukkina
Summary: Sometimes the only thing worth living for is the promise of happiness, but is that a promise, or a lie? Sequel to Why Stop Now?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't expect this to be a long sequel—probably ten chapters at the most. It's mostly just so I can finally get these characters out of my head and for those of you who asked for a sequel. Please R/R. **

Rachel bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. _No_. This wasn't happening. Not yet—not now, not on this God-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere. She threw her foe into the plastic garbage can and splashed her face with water before twisting open the doorknob and facing reality.

Lisa was sitting on Rachel's bed, her eyes closed and her hands clasped in her lap, silently praying. Her lips moved slightly with the words, but when she heard Rachel's soft footfalls, her eyes popped anxiously open.

The ecstatic look on Lisa's face was simply too much to bear, and Rachel slid to the floor in a heap, sobbing. Lisa collapsed next to her and wrapped her up in a gentle embrace.

"Sh," Lisa consoled. "What's wrong?"

"I'm too young."

"You're twenty-three."

"I'm not married."

Lisa let Rachel's hand rest in the hollow of her neck. "It's okay, babe. You'll make it. This is a good thing, remember? You love Alex."

"I promised myself I wouldn't do this before I saw my parents again," Rachel moaned. "None of this is right."

"It's not like you planned it," Lisa interjected mildly. Rachel exploded.

"I could have stopped it! We didn't even use protection, Leese, and—God!" Rachel pulled away and began pacing.

"There are still options, Rach," Lisa muttered. "You could--"

"I am _not_ getting an abortion," Rachel spat.

"I was going to say that you could put it up for adoption."

"With the what, five families on the island?" Rachel sighed. "No. And that's another problem. Where the hell will I have this thing?"

"Jackson is--"

"Jackson is_ not_ going to deliver my baby," Rachel said, surprising herself at the immediate attachment to the not-even three-week-old embryo. True, Jackson was trained, but there was no way in hell that she would let that idiot touch her. It was crazy enough that Lisa granted him that privilege.

"Calm down, Rachel," Lisa replied, a bit more sternly. She gripped Rachel's shoulders and shook her to attention. Rachel realized then how insane she must be sounding. Thick, salty tears coursed down her cheeks, and she trembled from head to toe. "There are medicine women. Housewives. We'll figure it out."

Rachel pressed a hand to her face, shaking her head. None of this was the way it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be married and living in New York with Alex, all charges against him dropped and retired from his stupid job. That's what he'd promised her, all those years ago. He'd _promised_ it. She wasn't supposed to get pregnant her first time, with Alex's baby. Not her. Not something that only happened in movies.

"What'll I tell him?" Rachel groaned. "What'll he say? What if he's angry?"

"He won't be angry," Lisa soothed. "This isn't just you. Alex is smart, hon, and he loves you. You guys will figure it out, and Alex will help you."

"Help you with what?" Alex appeared suddenly behind Rachel, wrapping his sturdy arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her neck. Rachel tried not to panic as she looked Lisa heavily in the eye.

_It figures,_ she complained to herself,_ the one night he's early is the one where I just so badly want to be alone._

"I need to talk to you," she murmured quietly. Lisa nodded encouragingly. "Privately."

Lisa mechanically took her cue and left, silently shutting the door behind her. Alex ignored Rachel's request, moving around and kissing her face. She pushed him away. "No," she said. "Not now."

He sighed and placed matching hands on his hips. "What's wrong?"

Rachel instinctively placed a hand on her stomach and said nothing, searching for words. It wasn't necessary. Alex's bright green eyes—the ones that used to scare her so badly—traced her arms to the area and, as he put two and two together, widened.

"Rachel," he muttered. "Really?"

Sighing, she hung her head. "Yeah."

She refused to look at him, certain that because of his silence he felt the same way as her: crushed, devastated, and worried. She cried to herself, pressing her face to the wall, and only looking up when Alex took her shoulder.

He wasn't angry, and he wasn't crying. He was _grinning_. "Rachel, I'm so happy!"

"What?"

He wrapped his arms around her, and try as she might to break free, he would have none of it. "Tell me that you don't _want_ to have my baby."

Rachel twisted around to look at him, her face a mask of suspicion. "I don't—I mean—it's too early, Alex! I mean, for Christ's sake, you're only--"

"Twenty-seven, and you're twenty-three, and we've known each other for eight years," Alex interjected. "It's not like it was a short summer fling, Rach."

"We're not _married_," Rachel spat. "I was raised the saintly Christian girl who can't have sex before marriage, let alone have a baby out of wedlock!"

Alex sighed, letting her go and ruffling his hair with his hand. Rachel pushed through the sliding door out onto the porch, pulling on her shoes. "Where are you going?" he called out.

She didn't answer him, but began striding quickly from the house. Walk. She needed a walk. Get some air, clear her head.

Alex jogged up to her as her feet sank into the beach and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to face him. "Rachel, you can't run away from this."

"I'm not," she snarled sarcastically. "I'm walking. Let me go."

"No," he replied. "We need to figure this out, _now._ When did you find out?"

"About five minutes before you did," Rachel snapped. "And if you think you're having trouble dealing with the whole concept, think of _me._ The thing's living in _me,_ for crying out loud."

Alex pulled her closer. Rachel struggled to get away from him. "I'm not having trouble dealing with the concept of a child, I just can't figure out why the hell you're so upset. You love me, Rachel, what's the problem?"

"I am _so sick_ of people deciding what I feel!" Rachel screamed, her cheeks flushing and her hair flying into her face crazily.

Alex's face fell. "So you're saying you don't love me."

Rachel sighed, exasperated. "I love you, Alex, but stop assuming that because of that, nothing else matters. I don't want your child if I can't see my family. I haven't seen them in seven years, Alex. Seven fucking years of them worrying about me, not even knowing if I'm still alive. And me. You promised me that I'd be home within a year. 'As soon as things blow over'. And I'm still not there, and you're still a wanted man, and I've probably been given up for dead."

At first glance, Alex' facial expression looked angry and defiant, but at the second, Rachel realized he was silently and desperately pleading with her to calm down. "Rachel, I'm doing the best I can. Do you think I _want_ to keep you here? I hate this place as much as you do, and I don't want to raise a family here any more than you do."

"You hate it," Rachel snorted disbelievingly. "You get to leave once in a while, though, don't you? Every _day_ you get to leave. Try being stuck here for seven years without talking to anybody but the same three people."

Alex grabbed her hand and pressed it between his. "Rachel, please," he said urgently. "Don't be upset. You know its not safe to go to New York. The police could--"

Rachel just stared at him and muttered a, "Selfish bastard" before ripping herself away from him and tearing down the beach.

"Wait!" He was winded when he caught up to her and managed to throw out an arm, "Listen to me for five seconds, will you?"

"I want to leave," Rachel said, and on second thought, "Leave me alone!"

"Just let me—I have something to--" When Rachel tried to pull away from Alex again, she tripped over his foot and went sprawling into the sand with a shout. Alex took advantage of this and pinned her there with his arms bent on her shoulders. "Just _listen_, goddammit."

Rachel didn't reply, but glared at him in acceptance.

"I came home early today because I needed to talk to you," he explained, still breathing a bit heavily as he reached into his pocket. "I was going to wait until you'd calmed down, but I have a feeling you won't listen to me until you see this."

She knew what it was before it was fully out of his pocket. When he opened the small box, the heavy stone glinted in the midday sunshine, and her breathing ceased for a moment as the impact of the situation hit her.

Alex didn't even have to say anything. The message his eyes were radiating was enough. Rachel choked on her lack of air and tried to figure out something to say herself.

"I can't…not if you don't let me see my family," Rachel insisted. "You can't ask it of me if I can't see them."

He sighed, and touched her cheek. "Give me a week. One week."

She mulled this over. What was one more week after seven years of isolation?

"Will you marry me, then?"

Her mouth didn't move in the slightest. She just nodded, and cried as Alex pulled her into his arms and began to cry himself.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, Rachel anxiously twisted the thick band on her finger as the clock hand slid to exactly six o'clock. She glanced weakly at Lisa, who patted her hand reassuringly.

"He won't renege on you, Rach," Lisa consoled. "If he does, then he can no longer be considered an honest man. And that will get him into trouble with Jackson, and knowing Alex, there is nothing worse."

Rachel coughed with a brief nod, desperately needing to change the subject. Lisa did it for her, smiling as Rachel's ring caught the light and prisms danced along the walls. "It's beautiful," she admitted. "You're a very lucky girl."

"At times," Rachel sighed. "What about you? Do you and Jackson have any…plans?"

"Like marriage?" Rachel nodded. "We've discussed it, sure, but it's not really of utmost priority at the moment. We're already together for probably the rest of our lives, so what difference does a contract make? Plus, terms of marriage on this island are a little different than they were in Miami. It's not a big deal."

"Do you think…" Rachel paused, sifting her brain for words. "Do you think that I made the right choice?"

"Which choice?" Lisa prompted, and Rachel realized her grammatical error. There were so many choices. The choice to be with Alex, the choice to sleep with him, the choice to marry him.

"To tell him I wouldn't marry him if he didn't let me see my family," Rachel confirmed. "Do you think that was wise? Or selfish?"

"It was absolutely the right thing to do," Lisa decided without hesitation. "Personally, I wouldn't want to marry a man who kept me from my parents." She frowned. "Hm. That actually explains a lot."

Rachel smiled as the door slammed in the foyer. Every hair on her body stood on end and she lept to her feet. Lisa grabbed her hand and they hurried out to the living room.

Alex gently set his briefcase down on the island countertop and removed his pale green tie before silently beckoning Rachel over. Lisa sighed and left the room, for which Rachel was grateful.

Alex reached inside his jacket and held out two slips of paper. Rachel gingerly took them and turned them between her fingers, beaming as she read the words on them.

"We'll take a boat to the mainland," Alex explained, "And then a plane to the States. We'll be traveling coach, though, and under aliases so that--"

"Oh, Alex!" Rachel cried, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. "I don't care how we get there, I'm just happy that we're finally _going._"

"You're going to have to make it damn clear," he muttered tensely into her hair, "that you want all charges against me dropped, and that you're carrying my child. You're going to have your work cut out for you, convincing your parents and uncle of everything. You'll have to meet them alone first, I think, and explain the magnitude of the situation before I can go see them."

Rachel nodded against him. "Of course."

He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek. "Now, do I get a kiss, love?"

Rachel smirked and raised her chin, raising her toes to kiss his lips.

Xx

"I hate when you work," Lisa complained openly into the phone, curling onto her side on the loveseat by the window later that week. Rachel's high-pitched and Alex's booming laughter from the living room usually warmed her, but tonight they annoyed her more than anything.

She was alone—again. Lisa tried, but found it hard not to be jealous of Rachel. Alex gave her everything—a ring, a trip home, a baby, and attention. What did Lisa get? Absolutely nothing. Jackson was never home, and lately she'd found herself living only for these phone calls. It was impossible to talk to Alex anymore, because all he could talk about was Rachel and the baby, and impossible to talk to Rachel, because all she talked about was Alex and the baby.

She envied how Rachel was allowed the privilege of a trip off the island. Tomorrow, she and Alex would take a ferry to the mainland and from there, fly to New York. Lisa would be stuck on the island, alone again, isolated from her friends and family, her lover away at work.

"Well, I'm sorry," Jackson sighed. "I'll be home soon, I promise."

"When?" Lisa moaned. "What has it been this time, a week? Two weeks? Jesus, Jackson, I saw you more in Miami."

"Lisa…"

She hung up on him, tersely crossing her arms over her chest, tears spilling down her face. The laughter raised to an excruciating volume in the living room, and Lisa's temper flared. Frustrated, she moaned and grabbed a pillow, slamming it over her head, the cool cotton pillowcase soaking up her tears.

_This has to stop_, Lisa realized, but she wasn't thinking, this time, about the noise. No. She knew what she had to do.

Her feet were heavier than her heart as she trudged from the bed and out to the kitchen. Rachel looked up at her, cheeks flushed, as she threw a final pillow at Alex. "You okay, Leese?"

Lisa looked away, digging in the bottom cupboard for a paper towel. "I'm fine. Just doing some cleaning."

Rachel nodded as a thick couch cushion flew into her back and knocked her to the floor. "Alex!"

Lisa rubbed all remaining and newly formed tears from her eyes with the towel as she darted back into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. The picture resting on her dresser caught her eye as she pulled out a change of clothes and stuffed them into the oversized purse that Jackson kept for her in the closet. She looked away, hanging her head as she pulled some jeans and a sweatshirt over the pajamas she was wearing. _You're doing the right thing, Lisa. He doesn't love you. _

She felt a little guilty as she took several crisp bills from Jackson's safe and pocketed them cleanly, but she felt that he owed her at least that much. Lisa found the rest of what she needed and slung the bag over her shoulder, walking into the living room.

"Where are you headed, Leese?" Alex called out as he pushed Rachel back down with a pillow.

"I'm going into town," she lied. "We need milk."

Alex nodded distractedly and waved her away as Rachel hit him again. As Lisa shut the door quietly behind her and began to descend the steps, she thought she heard Rachel exclaim, "I thought she was cleaning."

_I am cleaning,_ Lisa sighed as she stumbled in the moonlight to the boat docks. _Cleaning indeed._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **It may seem like I'm updating this really quickly—which I am—but I've had all this written in a notebook practically since I finished WSN, so its not like I'm writing really quickly or anything. Enjoy, please read/review.

Alex paced and checked his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. Rachel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, although when he looked down at her face, she seemed just as terrified as he did.

"I can't believe," he spat flatly, "that she just fucking _ran away._ She's going to get herself arrested. Goddammit."

"Sh, Alex," Rachel soothed. "She'll be fine. Lisa is smart, she'll know to--"

"No, Rachel," Alex growled. "She doesn't know what the hell she's getting herself into. Do you think Jackson took her here just on his own personal whim? He was looking out for her safety, because if the police get hold of her after all these years, she'll be lucky if she makes it out of trial with a life sentence."

Rachel swallowed, and Alex's eyes were suddenly drawn to the same spot on her neck that they had been two hours ago, before Jackson had called and interrupted to tell them that Lisa's name was suddenly on the list of flights out. That was when Rachel had darted to Lisa's room, which she'd said was mostly because she didn't trust a stupid online flight schedule that Jackson's computer automatically hacked into daily for client information.

Alex jumped as his phone vibrated on the kitchen table and instantly he ran for it, leaving Rachel sprawled out on the couch. "Yes, Jackson?"

"I had my guy do some checking around," Jackson hissed into the phone. "Lisa's plane left an hour ago from Agadir. She's headed to Dallas."

"So are you going there?"

"I'm at the airport now," Jackson said. "I'll probably beat her there. I'm coming from Ontario."

"Do you still want us to fly out tomorrow?" Alex noticed Rachel sink deeper into the couch.

"I don't care what the fuck you do. I'll find Lisa and give you a call when I do."

Alex hung up the phone, practically feeling the heat radiating from Jackson's anger. He raised an eyebrow at Rachel and shrugged as he replaced the phone on the table. He reminded himself not to worry. Lisa was his sister, but she was an adult. She was older than him, for Christ's sake, so why did he feel so protective suddenly? She was capable. She would be fine, and if she couldn't handle things herself, there was always Jackson. "He has it taken care of."

"That's good." Alex was eager to continue the little heart-to-heart that he and Rachel had been having before the phone call, but evidently Rachel had other plans. "I'm going to go pack."

"What about--" Rachel cut him off, obviously sensing the direction of his plea.

"You were pressing your luck as it was. We leave at six tomorrow, Alex, remember? I have a lot to do."

He sighed and fell back onto the couch. "Fine, fine. You're no fun."

She smirked. "Not now, anyway."

Xx

Rachel forced her eyes open at four-thirty the next morning, still surrounding by a thick blanket of sleep. She touched Alex's cheek before stumbling out of bed and tripping to the kitchen to put the coffee on.

She was pleased that she'd be leaving today, but several questions still remained in the corner of her mind. Would Alex force her back to this island after? Or would they live together in New York with her parents?

Or, by this time tomorrow, would he be behind bars?

Rachel firmly decided that she'd do everything in her power, if necessary, to keep Alex out of prison. Since he'd committed no crimes against anybody except her, her parents, and her uncle Fred, they were the only ones she really needed to worry about. And with the argument of Alex being her baby's father, who could possibly press charges?

She sipped her coffee from a porcelain mug as she stared fondly at the matching suitcases sitting placidly by the door. Today, today. She would leave today. And then she would have the best of both worlds—Alex, and her family.

Rachel grew excited, mentally listing who she would visit. Her parents and Chris would be first. Chris. He'd be eighteen. Would he be living at home still?

And then she'd have to track down the Nolans, and Gemma, and—

It hit her then. _Lou._ She hadn't thought of that boy for seven years. Not him, the boy who claimed to love her, or Zozo, the only female friend of her age that she'd ever had.

Lou. Rachel quickly touched the ring on her finger, a subtle reminder of where her loyalties should lie. Where they did lie. She felt nothing for Lou, just remorse. Guilt. Would he have moved on by now? Would he be engaged as well?

Rachel stood and emptied her mug before making her way to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water, and as she came up for air she felt a familiar hand wrap around her waist. Alex's actions were predictable now—an arm around her waist, the lips on her hair and then her neck. She turned around and kissed him, and he smiled.

When she pulled away, she said, "You don't have to get up yet. I have everything ready."

"I smelled coffee."

"There's some left."

"But I can wait…" Alex put a hand on her neck. Rachel smiled and gently pushed it away.

"Six o'clock. Flight. You're not getting out of this one."

He sighed and touched her stomach. "Have I told you how much you suck and at the same time rock?"

Laughing, Rachel patted his hand over her abdomen. "Nope."

He kissed her one last time. "Well, you do. If it weren't for the fact that I'm crazy about you and you're carrying half of my genetic material, I wouldn't be able to live."

"Now that's nice." Rachel laughed again as he grinned sheepishly at her and left her in the bathroom.

She sighed happily and ran a hand through her hair. It was nice. It was nice indeed.

Xx

Lisa walked briskly from the plane, hoping to clear some of the tension that rested there as a result of the lengthy journey. She took a deep breath of the air, which was considerably cooler than it had been on the island. She smiled.

At the moment, she was happy, and she would remain so for probably about half an hour before she went back to being depressed again.

It took a lot of mental coaching for her to step on the ferry, and then the first plane, and then the connecting plane. Lisa kept reminding herself of Jackson's wavering loyalty to her, of the solitude she'd been forced to endure on the island, and basically every grievance that either Jackson, Alex, or Rachel had ever committed against her. There weren't may, especially from the last two, but they were enough to get her feet moving.

She'd figured out her plan on the plane. She hailed a cab first to take her to her mother's house. Her intent was to stay there for a day or two and get reacquainted with her mother before taking a flight to Miami. It was going to be painful, convincing her parents of what she'd been through, and even more painful if she was confronted by the police. By now she'd be a fugitive on the national level, if not international as well.

The guilt was what was weighing most heavily on her at the moment. Guilt over leaving Jackson, sure, but that wasn't entirely it. He rebounded quickly, after all.

It was the shame she'd faced for seven years, after leaving her parents without so much as a goodbye. Would they accept her back as quickly as she hoped? Or would they shun her, be indifferent to her altogether after the loss they had faced so long ago?

Lisa sighed as she paid the cabbie and stepped out in front of her mother's house. She would find out now, and as much as she wanted to turn back, now she couldn't. The cab had pulled away.

Run. She could run down the street. Glancing frantically around, Lisa weighed her options. As her feet edged forward on the sidewalk, she saw the front door swing open.

The once-beautiful woman who Lisa had once admired so much as a child was now physically decimated. Her hair was thin and grayed, her face lined and thin, her clothes hanging loosely from her emaciated frame. Lisa couldn't help but drop her purse in shock. _Will she recognize me? I don't even recognize her._

Lisa's mother looked up from the mail she'd obviously been preparing to mail out and froze. Her lips quivered open, her eyes disbelieving and melting. "Lisa?"

Lisa took a step forward. _More. Walk further. Don't be scared._ "Mom."

"Lisa," her mother was stumbling forward now, crying. "Lisa, Lisa, it's not you! Oh God, I'm dreaming again!" Lisa watched as her mother pinched herself, surprised that even such a desperate woman would resort to that. Not her mother. Her mother used to be strong.

"You're not," Lisa croaked. "I'm…I'm…" Nothing. What was there to say? Absolutely nothing. She did what her mother was pleading for with her eyes alone—Lisa ran into her arms and squeezed her tightly. She was only vaguely aware of her mother's nails digging into her back as they cried together.

"Lisa," her mother sobbed. "You're here. You're here. My baby, oh….I thought you were dead."

"For a while, Mom," Lisa whispered back, recalling her physical isolation and emotional desolation back on the island, "for a while, I was."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! **

Xx 

Rachel rubbed her cold hands together, swearing at the nippy temperatures but not quite ready to complain yet. Anything beat the irrepressible heat of the island. Seeing her shiver, Alex tossed his jacket to her.

"Don't lose it."

Rachel scowled at him. "Do you think I'm that irresponsible?"

He smirked and began to tug it over her shoulders as she seethed. "You don't remember?"

"Not at all."

"Why, I'm shocked," he said, and then, off her look, added, "After I—stole you, I gave you my coat because yours got ripped, remember? And then you left it on the plane."

Rachel beamed happily. "Oh, yeah. Should I say sorry or something?"

"Just promise me you won't lose this one."

"I won't."

Rachel zipped it and looked at the door, taking a deep breath. "I should probably—uh--"

Alex sighed, running a hand through Rachel's hair as he let her lean on him. "You don't have to go now."

She shook her head. "No, I need to get this over with. If I don't leave now, I don't think I ever will. I'll call you if I need you."

He bit his lip and nodded. "Fine. I hope you know that if it was up to me, we wouldn't be here."

"I know that," Rachel kissed him. "Which is why I appreciate this more than anything."

"Just don't forget," Alex reminded her sourly. "To put in a good word."

"I will," she sighed, rubbing her stomach. "Alex Junior here will be a good selling point." Alex grimaced.

She smiled as she grabbed her purse and stepped out the door, shutting it securely behind her. As she strode quickly down the hotel corridor to the elevators, she heard Alex call out, "We're not naming him that?"

Rachel spun around and began to walk backwards, grinning coyly. "What will we call him then, _Alec_?"

Alex chuckled. "As you wish."

Xx

Jackson stepped off the plane in Chicago and looked around, shielding his eyes against the blinding halogen lights within the terminal. _Damn it. Damn **her.**_

He glanced out a window at the thick snowfall and checked his watch with a growl. The departure board blinked cheerfully that his flight was cancelled. Perfect. That was all he needed, to give Lisa a day's head start.

He had to do something instead of standing in a crowded airport. He pulled out his phone. "Alex?"

"Jackson?" he heard the frown in Alex's voice. "Where are you? Did you find my sister?"

"No," Jackson spat. "My fucking flight got cancelled. I hope Lisa's did as well. I'm going to call Mark. I wonder if she knew it was winter over here?"

"I sure as hell didn't," Alex sighed. "Rachel picked a horrible time to visit Mom and Dad."

Jackson forced a low, bitter laugh before clearing his throat. "Are you with her?"

"Rachel? No. She left."

"Keep a watchful eye, I don't trust this weather," Jackson replied, tapping his feet irritably on the tiled floor. "I'll call you when I hear more."

"Bye."

Xx

Rachel clasped her head, feeling dizzy as the cab left her outside of her mother's house. _You can do this, Rachel. They love you, they won't be angry._

It looked the same as ever. The softly falling snow nicely accentuated the box-shaped brick house, the dim sunlight forming a halo over the roof. Rachel checked her watch. Five o'clock.

She busied herself, running a hand through her hair and tongue over her teeth. Rachel touched her stomach for support. _Jesus, Rachel, why don't you just pull out a compact mirror and check your makeup while you're at it?_

She took a step forward, and then another, until she was stumbling forward in a rough run to knock loudly on the door. Rachel bent her neck and looked at her shoes as she waited, tugging her jacket snuggly around her and sticking her nose into the sweet-smelling fabric. She found it mildly humorous how years ago, when afraid of Alex, she used the memorabilia left from her family to comfort herself. But now, getting ready to confront her family, she was clinging to what she had of him. His baby, his coat, and then his necklace. Rachel looked up in surprise as the door swung open.

As soon as her eyes met her father's, the door slammed shut again. Rachel tried the knob. It was unlocked, and she pushed it open. Her father backed away, leaning heavily on a chair, staring at her.

"Daddy?" she whispered.

"No, no," he turned his head away, shaking it and clasping his hands over his ears. "Wake up. Wake up. It's December 22, you're having the dream again. Dammit, wake UP!"

"You're not dreaming," Rachel croaked. She reached out for him, but he batted her hand away. "Daddy…."

"Rachel?"

She turned on her heel to see her mother gaping at her from the staircase. Rachel trembled at the confused look on her mother's face. "No—it can't be--"

"Mom," Rachel murmured, a fat tear sliding down her face. "It is. Mom."

Her mother stumbled to her, falling over her own feet as she hungrily wrapped her daughter up in her arms. "Baby," she sobbed into Rachel's shoulder. "I've dreamed about this day for years. Oh, Rachel."

"Sam, don't believe it!" her father said suddenly. "It's a dream again! It's the dream we always have this time of the year!"

Rachel frowned as her mother broke the embrace and looked at her father. _This time of the year?_ Then it hit her. December 22nd. The day Alex kidnapped her for the first time. That made sense.

Rachel watched as her mother touched Rachel's hair, her eyes, her shoulder, and slowly shook her own head. "No," Sam said. "It's her. Rachel. She's back, darling, she's here finally."

Her mother ushered her to the couch, where she practically pushed her down and ran to get a cup of coffee before Rachel could even say 'okay'. Rachel straightened her jacket, happy. _See? Nothing to worry about. She's not mad._

As her mother returned with her coffee, Rachel sat up straighter and attempted to calm her shaking hands. Now to tell her that she was pregnant with the baby of her kidnapper. Sure. Piece of cake.

"Where have you been, Rachel?" Sam sighed after a long pause. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mommy," Rachel said gently. "I've…this is hard." Sam nodded as Rachel attempted to sip her coffee and spilled half of it down Alex' jacket. She couldn't help but chuckle a little as her mother wordlessly handed her a towel. _I didn't lose it, Alex. _

She coughed and set her coffee mug on the table beside her before continuing. No distractions. Rachel glanced at her mother.

Seven years hadn't changed her in the slightest. Sam still had the soft, sweet face of a respectable woman, the same jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. Her mother. One of the two faces that had remained in the eye of Rachel's mind for seven years. Her mom, and Lou.

Rachel cleared her throat. "I've thought about you a lot over…while I've been gone."

Sam smiled sadly. "To say the same about you would be such an understatement. Baby, you're _all_ I've thought about."

Rachel tried not to cry again. "I need…I've been in Africa." _Where the hell did that come from?_

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Africa?"

"Yeah. On an island." _Don't tell her this. God, Alex would kill you if he knew! _

"You've been on an island in Africa."

"With Alex." _Shit. Now she knows. No, wait, she doesn't. Alec. Alex. Dan. Alex. Alec?_

"Alex?" Sam looked ready to cry. "Who's that?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "The father of my baby."

Sam closed her eyes, then popped them open just as quickly. Her eyes darted around the room before coming for a rest on Rachel's stomach. "You're—pregnant?"

Rachel nodded. "I found out about a week ago."

Sam looked hurt, and when she spoke again, it was in a whisper. "You left your family to live with some _man?_ Who we don't even _know?_"

"I think you do know him, Mom," Rachel sighed. "He's gone by many names, but Alex is his real one. Daniel Gregory, Alec Rocher, any of those ring a bell?"

Sam gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, muttering to herself, "No, no, no, no, no…."

"Yes, Mom," Rachel forced out. "I love him. And he loves me. He treats me--"

"He kidnapped you! He tried to kill your uncle and you're _pregnant with his child?_ Tell me I'm having a nightmare again, _please!_ My Rachel—my sensible Rachel, infatuated with a murderer!"

"He's not a murderer," Rachel argued. "You don't even know him! If he was truly that horrible of a person, do you honestly think I'd still be with him?"  
Her mother deflated some, and Rachel plowed on. "Do you? Do you really think my judgment is _that bad?"_

Sam slowly shook her head, crying now. "You—why didn't you tell us—tell us where you were all these years? You have no idea what we've been through."

Rachel took her mother's hand, who didn't exactly rip it away but didn't exchange the gesture either. "I wasn't allowed to contact you. It would have been to dangerous, Alex could have been put in jail if we were tracked."

Sam cried openly, her mascara running in puddles down her cheeks. "Tell me he didn't make you do this. Tell me he didn't force you to that island and—and _rape_ you and now he's making you tell me all of this. Tell me, Rachel."

"Mommy, I love him," Rachel said simply. "I don't expect you to understand, because half the time I don't even understand it. But I do, I love him, and--" Rachel looked down, and held up her hand. Her mother's eyes widened at the heavy rock adorning her daughter's finger.

"Oh, my--"

"We're engaged. And we want to live in New York, in the area, to get married and raise our child. But we can't, because if you go to the police to have him arrested, he'll take me back to the island, where it's safe."

Sam bit her lip. "You have no idea how much I want to kill this man."

"I do."

"You promise he hasn't hurt you?"

Rachel considered this. _Not more than I've hurt him._ "I promise you that."

She sighed. "Do I have to talk to him?"

Rachel snorted. "Probably." Sam forced a weak smile, and it was then that Rachel realized what was missing. "Where's Chris? Is he…God, is he in college already?"

Her mother's face darkened, and she sank hollowly into the couch pillows. "Oh, no…."

"Working, then?"

"Rachel, I…" Sam shook her head with a great deal of bitterness. "This is so hard to tell you but…"

Rachel felt something snap inside of her. "Tell me."

"Chris committed suicide two years after you vanished."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks, reviewers!**

The beginnings of panic had started in Alex' gut around midnight when the door to their room swung heavily open and Rachel stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the large brown stain gracing the fabric of his jacket, but as he stepped forward with an aggravated sigh, the light fell upon Rachel's tearstained face.

Her hair had fallen from its neat ballerina bun, the wavy locks spilling over her exhausted eyes. Her beautiful dark skin beneath the eyes was ringed with dried eyeliner and mascara. Alex forgot about the coat for a minute and touched her shoulder.

"Sweetheart," Alex muttered, trying to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her to him. She jerked away, trembling. "What's wrong?"

"It's your fucking fault," she hissed suddenly. Alex backed away, frowning. What did he do now? "You _killed_ him."

"I didn't kill anybody!" Alex replied defensively. What did she know? "What's your problem now?"

Rachel just stared at him. _Oops. Maybe I should have been a little more sensitive._ She pushed past him, jostling him with her shoulder as she threw his jacket down on the bed. Alex desperately wanted to ask her what she'd done to his coat, but the desire to figure out what was wrong with her was greater. She began to pull her bag from under the bed but Alex grabbed her arm and stopped her. She looked at him. "Let me go, _now._"

"Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong and where you think you're going," he replied with just as much venom. Rachel reached up without hesitation and slapped him smartly across the cheek. Alex stumbled backwards, not so much from the impact as from the shock. He touched his face and glared at her. "What the hell was that for?"

She trembled as she grabbed the bag and pulled a sweatshirt from it. "Leave me alone. I'll call you when I'm ready."

"No, you won't _call me when you're ready_ because you're not going to fucking leave me!" Alex yelled. "I let you go once, and for fuck's sake, it's not going to happen again, not without an explanation!" His temper rose with every word he punched out. He had to know, _needed_ to know what had happened and why she was upset with him. But he also knew that with every breath he took his chances of discovery were lessening.

Rachel drew in a sharp breath as he gripped her arm and pressed her against the wall. Alex made sure not to push her too hard, it wasn't like he _wanted_ to hurt her or the baby, but enough to show her that he meant business. "Get away from me. Get away _now._"

"Not until you tell me."

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Fine. You want to know? I'll tell you. My brother is _dead_, Alex, and do you want to know why? Because he couldn't handle not knowing where I was, if I was alive, if you were hurting me. He killed himself and it's _your_ fault because you wouldn't let me contact my family. Satisfied?"

Alex sucked in breath. Her brother? Chris, wasn't that his name? His chest tightened in anguish, not for the kid, but for his fiancée. He reached for her face, but she darted away from him. "Sweetheart, I—I don't know what to--"

"I don't want to talk," she muttered, tears sliding down her face. "I can't talk to you right now. I need to go home and be with my family. Don't keep me here."

Alex wanted to scream, because he didn't want her to leave him. But if he kept her here against her will—and how the fuck would he do that, tie her to the bed?—he knew she would hold it against him forever. "I won't, but you're not taking a cab this late. I'll drive you."

"I can drive myself."

"You're upset, it's late, and it's snowing," Alex pointed out. "Please. I don't have to go in."

She looked up. "Actually…"

Alex grimaced. "Please, Rach, this late?"

"Alex, nobody is going to get any sleep tonight," she pointed out with a sigh. "But I think it would rest my parents' minds at ease if you could just _show_ them how…normal…you can be." With another sigh, she added, "It would make me feel better, too."

He wondered when she had moved from hating him to trying to accept him. He grunted and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, fine. Now?" Rachel nodded and pulled the sweatshirt over her head as Alex grabbed his jacket from the bed.

He pointed to the stain and Rachel caught his glance. "Oh. Um. Coffee. Sorry."

Alex winced. "No problem."

They walked together to the elevator, and although Rachel still wasn't exactly warming up to him, she let Alex hold her hand. As they strode to the car, he added, "If I get hit, or something gets thrown at me--"

"You are going to do absolutely nothing back," Rachel admonished. "They're my _parents_, Alex."

He changed the subject. "You have an older sister as well, correct?"

"Yeah. Gina."

"Is she going to be there?"

Rachel squinted. "She's living at home now, yes. Why?"

"I don't know if I can take _three_ women all feeling relatively violent towards me."

Rachel snorted. "Get over yourself."

Xx

Lisa awoke from a deep sleep as her door creaked open. "Mom?" she croaked from her warm guest bed. "What's wrong?"

As soon as the figure moved, she knew it wasn't her mother. Lisa bolted from the bed, trying to run away, trying to scream. "Sh, Lisa," Jackson caught her and pressed her to the wall. "If you leave now with me, we can forget this ever happened…"

"No, no, no, no," Lisa wagged her head furiously as Jackson clamped a sweaty hand around her neck, blue eyes flashing in the darkness. "I don't want to go back to the island, Jackson!"

"Too fucking bad," he hissed. "I'm sick of all your stupid little antics. Did you really think I wouldn't find you? Or that, if I didn't, the police wouldn't? You're a wanted woman, Leese. It's me, or prison. Your choice."

"I can't," Lisa sobbed. "I can't choose."

"You don't need to."

"You just said I do!"

"Lisa, you don't need to. What's wrong?"

"What the fuck do you _think_ is wrong?"

"Leese…"

Lisa awoke as the cool hand pressed against her forehead. She thrashed against it and her eyes shot open with a tremble. "I don't…" Her mother loomed worriedly over her, house robe tossed hurriedly around her withered frame. "Mom."

"Baby, are you okay?" she muttered. "What's wrong? A nightmare?"

Lisa sat up, dizzy and disoriented. Texas. She was safe in Texas in her mother's guest bedroom. Jackson was a million miles away. Just killing people.

"Yeah," Lisa shook her head. "A nightmare. Jackson Rippner is a nightmare."

Her mother sighed sympathetically. Lisa had told her the entire story, from the red-eye flight to the day she'd left the island. It had been a long, painful discussion, but it had happened, and Lisa was grateful that her mother had understood. "Come on."

Lisa frowned but followed her mother as she padded out to the kitchen. Once there, the woman proceeded to pull a frying pan from the cupboards and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. Lisa smiled. "It's not three am yet, Mom."

Her mother checked her watch. It was well after midnight. "Close enough. Sit down, little girl."

Lisa grinned, some of her anxiety beginning to fade. She pulled a chair from the table and sat near the stove, watching her mother cook.

The egg ritual was one she'd proudly inherited from her mother, a former insomniac. Apparently old habits died hard, especially for the Reiserts. Lisa sighed. Old habits _did_ die hard—especially nightmares about scary men. The man had changed, but the feeling hadn't.

"I don't know what to do, Mom," she said abruptly. "I mean, I certainly don't feel safe in the States, being on the Most Wanted list. But then, I don't think I want to go back to the island, where I'll be virtually ignored and isolated again."

"What about that little Rachel girl?" her mother asked vaguely, making Lisa think she'd ignored her complaint completely.

Hurt, Lisa responded. "She's not little, Mom, she's twenty-three, engaged, and pregnant." She sighed. "I wish I were her."

Her mother cracked an egg. "Never say that, Leese. I hardly think that having a child out of wedlock with your kidnapper is a desirable situation. Remember, she's much younger than you and also cut off from her friends and family."

Lisa nodded dejectedly. "Yeah, but at least she's not a fugitive."

Xx

Rachel pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the car window, hating herself and hating Alex. _I wish I was Lisa._

She placed a hand on her stomach, wishing for some sign—even a small one—that would remind her of the thing growing inside. It was too early for kicks or sickness, but _still._ She wanted something to give her reason to live.

Alex coughed. "Are you going to give me directions?"

Rachel snorted. "You stalked me, Alex, and you don't remember where I live?"

"It's been a while."

Rachel rattled off the street name and they smoothly coasted to a stop in the driveway fifteen minutes later. Alex helped her from the car and tightly took her hand as they walked inside.

"Ow!" Rachel grimaced. "I'm not going to leave you, Alex, could you lighten up a little?"

"They probably think I forced you into all this," Alex replied idly. "Did you explain to--"

"I told them my feelings for you," Rachel sighed irritably. "It's fine."

Rachel let them back inside and called her parents names. They were still up, sitting together on one of the couches. Rachel bit the bullet and cautiously led her fiancée into the room.

"I'm back," she said.

Her father stood abruptly. "Is this—is this--"

"Alex Reisert. My fiancée."

Rachel watched as her father paced a moment, and then returned to his seat. Taking a breath of relief, she sat with Alex across from them.

And how normal was this? Meeting the parents for the first time. It could have been a silly romantic comedy, for all that it appeared. The only difference was that Alex was an assassin who'd kidnapped her seven years ago. That wasn't so normal.

"When is the wedding?" her mother asked instantly. "And are you having it here?"

"If all charges are dropped against Alex," Rachel said carefully. "As they _should_ be, then yes, we plan to have the wedding locally. Probably in a few months or so."

Her father sighed. "I suppose you expect us to not hold any grudges."

Rachel smiled slightly and looked at Alex. He looked pained. "Yes. That would be nice. I plan on speaking to Uncle Fred as well."

"Now, Mr. Reise--"

"Alex," Alex interrupted politely. "Please call me Alex."

"Alex," Rachel's mother repeated, her voice laced with disgust. Rachel shot her a look. "What do you do for a living?" _Oh, shit, Mom. Did you have to bring that up? Did you think that job with Uncle Fred was just a side thing? _

Alex looked to Rachel for help, and she shrugged. "I—uh—do independent jobs assigned from a small local contractor," he said, stumbling over the words as he spoke quickly. "This and that."  
"What kind of jobs might those be?" her father pressed. Alex's hand was sweaty.

"Um…." Again, he looked to Rachel for support. Again, she had nothing to offer. He squeezed the words out. "Government overthrows, high-profile assassinations. The usual." Rachel nodded at Jackson's traditional 'don't-ask-don't-tell' response. It's what he drilled into all of his employees.

She hoped her parents would leave it at that. "Seriously, though," Sam replied. "I want to know what will be feeding the mouths of my daughter and grandchild. What do you really do?"

"I just….told you?" Alex swallowed hard in response. There was a dead silence as Rachel heard a door slam somewhere in the house. _Thank God._

Gina darted out, face bright but falling at the sight of the stranger on the couch. She nudged Rachel over and took a seat on her other side. "Hey, Rach, is this…uh…"

"This is him," Rachel chirped, attempting cheerfulness. "This is my fiancée. Alex, this is Gina."

"Nice to meet you," Alex said, his voice monotone.

"Yeah." Gina replied, obviously trying to be pleasant but her voice was threaded with resentment. "Same here."

Alex's phone buzzed suddenly in his pocket, and Rachel felt it against her hip. She shook her head 'no' at him, but his eyes pleaded desperation.

"It could be Jackson," he whispered. "With news about Leese."

She sighed. "Fine, fine. But make it quick."

He apologized to Rachel's family, telling them he was waiting on news about his sister. "This is Reisert." Rachel's father rolled his eyes.

"You found her? Dallas?" Alex squinted. "Yeah. No, my mother lives there. Yeah, I know. So she's with Mom. Don't scare her. No, she doesn't need to be punished, Jackson." There was a long pause. Rachel looked up and noticed everybody in the room staring at Alex. "I understand. I know. I know. I see that. Yeah. I know how lucky I am. I apologize. Okay. See you in a bit. Bye."

He hung up and cleared his throat. "Sorry about that."

"Who were you talking to?" Sam asked curiously. Rachel closed her eyes.

"Well, he's my boss, I suppose, and my friend, and he lived with Rachel and I for the past seven years," Alex explained. "With my sister as well."

"What did she do?" Gina asked nosily.

"Um…"

"You said she doesn't need to be punished," her father added with a sigh. "So what did she do?"

"It doesn't actually involve Alex and I," Rachel hurried. "It's just…uh…she kind of had an argument with her boyfriend—Jackson—and he's kind of…quick-tempered."

"And you lived with him?"

"He's a nice guy once you get to know him," Alex attempted helpfully. "He's the one….um…he saved me once. I almost died or something." Rachel smirked. Or something.

"I see," Rachel's father nodded slowly. "May I ask--"

"He was helping to catch a person who hurt his sister," Rachel answered before Alex could open his mouth. She was determined to make him look like the good guy this time. "The person hurt him pretty badly and Jackson found him, just barely alive, and got him medical assistance."

Alex nodded. "What she said."

"Is that what--" Sam touched her face and gestured at Alex's scar. Alex nodded.

"Yeah."

Looking around, Rachel noted the tension in the room to be much less. Less than an hour had passed, but it felt like it had taken ages to set her parents' minds at ease. "Are we all set, then, Mom and Dad?"

They nodded. "I don't like it," Sam said honestly. "But if you're sure this is what you want--"

"It is," Rachel insisted. "I want this more than anything."

"Then we can't press charges," her father sighed. "I don't want the father of my grandchild in prison. But, Alex…"

"Yes, sir," Alex said, a bit too eagerly. Sam raised her eyebrows.

"If you so much as touch my girl, I swear to God I will hunt you down and kill you," he finished. Alex smiled.

"I understand," he replied, wrapping his arm around Rachel. "But honestly sir—I think I should be more scared of your girl."

"Why's that?" Gina laughed. Rachel poked her in the side as she leaned into Alex, and Gina grinned.

"Oh, believe me, Gina," Rachel said. "I pack quite a punch."


	6. Chapter 6

Rachel awoke to the smell of cinnamon and smiled complacently, turning over and nestling her head against Alex. He made a lethargic little grunt and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

"Your bed," he began, his voice thick with sleep, "is way too small."

"You're lucky that Gina's living in the den," Rachel giggled. "Otherwise it would be the couch for you. You know how mad my dad was that my mom let you sleep in here."

"I just feel lucky to still be alive," Alex laughed. "Your father is scarier than Jackson."

Rachel snorted and curled into him. "Jackson is by no means scary. He's just an asshole."

"Be nice."

Rachel closed her eyes on Alex's chest as he sighed peacefully and surveyed her room. "They haven't changed a thing, have they?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your room. Chris's room was changed into a putting green, but they haven't so much as moved a poster in here," Alex replied, though not harshly.

"I think," Rachel began, opening her eyes as Alex toyed with her fingers. "I think that maybe they knew, deep down, that I would be back."

They crawled out of bed together and trekked downstairs. Alex smiled fondly at the fresh layer of snow gracing the ground before bidding Sam good morning. She grunted, not looking up from her stove. Gina grinned at them from the table, curly hair forced into a messy ponytail.

"Good morning," Rachel said, pecking her sister on the cheek. It didn't feel strange at all, going through the routine she used to follow when she lived at home. Sleeping in her old room, her mother cooking breakfast, talking to Gina. Maybe time had stopped here—maybe it only continued for her.

Gina nodded at the clock before sipping her coffee. "Good afternoon. Don't feel bad, I just got up, too."

Sam swore, and Alex automatically tightened his grip on Rachel's arm. She laughed and disentangled herself as her mother spun around, hands covered in pancake batter.

"We're out of eggs," she said abruptly, waving the empty carton. "Gina, could you--"

"Car's in the shop," Gina answered, not looking up from her newspaper. "Sorry."

Alex stepped forward. "Mrs. Redford, Rachel and I could go. I have a car."  
Sam eyed them suspiciously. "You won't have time to shower."  
Alex shrugged and gestured to the wrinkled jeans he'd slept in. "That's fine. Rach?"

She grabbed Alex's stained jacket and her sweatshirt, pulling hers on over her pajamas. "Let's go."

Alex held her shivering form to him as they darted to the car, and Rachel leaned up to kiss him on the ear. "Suck-up," she whispered playfully. Alex grinned and tossed a handful of snow on her head. She hissed and threw a chunk of ice at him. He laughed and scooped her up, dumping her in the car.

Starting the engine, he mumbled happily to her, "I think I could get used to this."

Xx

They split up inside the small grocery store, Alex muttering something about needing to find a copy of the New York Times. Rachel made a beeline for the eggs and hoping that nobody would recognize her while at the same time running a hand through her messy curls.

Once there, she spent an eternity debating over whether to get a dozen or two dozen. She settled for the latter, smirking. Alex could certainly afford it. She spun around as she heard something crash to the floor behind her, first instinct being that she'd somehow caused it.

Her eyes first fell upon the smashed carton of milk on the tiles before following a pair of shoes up to a torso and then a face. A very familiar face.

"Rachel?"

Lou Whitman hadn't changed much. His face still held a small reserve of boyish charm, though it had grown more defined and hardened. His eyes looked tired, but not just lack-of sleep tired. Unlike Rachel, clad only in flannel pajamas and a baggy sweatshirt, Lou was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and leather jacket.

"Lou!" Without thinking, Rachel ran to him and happily wrapped her arms around him. "God, how have you been?"

"I think the question is, where have _you_ been," Lou replied, squeezing her shoulders. "We were so worried, I was so worried. I thought—I thought that bastard had killed you! What happened, did you get away? Did he die? How long--"

"I didn't die," came a crisp voice from behind Rachel, who pulled her away from Lou. Alex pressed her tightly to him, taking her hand. "I'm right here."

"Let her go," Lou growled angrily. "Why can't you just leave her the fuck alone?"

"Lou…"

"Rachel, who is this asshole?" Alex snapped. "Can we just leave?"

Rachel disentangled herself from him. "Lou, this is Alex--"

"I _know_ who he is--"

"—my fiancée and the father of my baby," she finished hurriedly. There was silence. Alex smirked pompously as Lou paused disbelievingly, his gaze falling to his feet. Rachel looked at Alex.

"Can we please have a minute?" she requested in a whisper. "Please?"

Alex scowled and shook his head. "Rach, I don't trus--"

"Alex."

Rachel glared at him, her face turning pink from the effort. Alex sighed and forcefully snatched the eggs from her hand. "I'll be in the car." Rachel nodded but before she could feel relief, Alex pulled her to him. He kissed her, long and hard, but there was no passion at all whatsoever, and Alex obviously made sure that Lou could see them. When he pulled away, Rachel was angry. It wasn't a loving gesture, it was just to prove that she belonged to him alone. He stalked away.

Rachel toyed with the drawstring on her sweatshirt and waited for Lou to speak. When he finally did, it disappointed her. "Rachel, why are you doing this to yourself?"

She looked up, confused. "Doing what to myself? I'm fine, Lou."

Lou jabbed his thumb in the direction of where Alex had left. "_Him._ Why are you with him? He treats you terribly, and--"

"Alex does _not_ treat me badly," Rachel snapped. "He gets jealous. That's all. You don't know him."

"He held a _knife_ to your throat on a subway in Boston," Lou argued. "What kind of lover _does_ that?"

Rachel had a retort ready, but stopped. "You remember that?" Seven years ago. A five-minute affair seven years ago, and Lou Whitman remembered it.

"Of course I remember that," Lou grumbled bitterly. "That was the last time I saw you."

Rachel fell silent, her lips moving in an effort to say something, _anything._ No words escaped, because there were none. Her stomach contorted in sickly guilt. "I'm…I can't…I missed you, Lou."

"You missed me," he said quietly. "I didn't even know if you were _alive._ You could have called."

"Alex wouldn't…"

"He wouldn't let you call?" Lou interjected. "Is that what it was? I thought he treated you well. If he treated you so damn well, Rachel, then why couldn't you at least call home and tell people you were okay?"

Rachel bit her lip. "He could have been arrested, Lou! I don't want him in jail, he's the father of my baby and--"

"Did you want him to be?"

Rachel frowned. "What do you--"

Lou stared intently at her, grabbing her arm. Rachel didn't pull away but backed into the icy shelf behind her. "Did you want to get pregnant? Did you want to marry him? Did you want him to go to jail?"

Rachel looked at him, into his dark eyes, searching for any sign that he might be joking. She saw herself reflected in them, her cheeks flushed and her own eyes defensive. She looked ready to pounce at any moment and that scared her. "Lou, why are you--"

Lou gripped her elbow more tightly, and his intensity scared her. It was difficult to believe that just moments ago, she'd been elated to see her old band mate. "Tell me, Rachel, tell me if this is what you want. For the past seven years I couldn't stop wondering if you went with him because you wanted to, or if you were scared. I need to know, I need to know so I can move on and forget about you."

Rachel drew in a breath. _Is he really still attached to me, after all these years?_ "You want to know if Alex forced me to live with him, if he forced me to have sex with him, if he made me marry him."

Lou looked uncomfortable, as if by Rachel's rewording his blunt question made him rethink his determination. "Yeah."

Rachel shook her head, speechless. "I thought you knew me better than that." She began to walk away, pushing Lou away from her as her eyes clouded. She heard him follow her and shook him off. "Leave me alone, Lou, please."

She sensed him grab her shoulder again, but she was numb. Rachel raised a shaking hand to brush it off. "Please, Rachel, just _listen--_"

She spun around. "Lou, stop _doing_ this! I told you before, I love you as a friend, but I _don't want to be with you._ I love Alex. He loves me. I'm an adult, and I can make my own decisions. Please."

Lou backed away, his mouth turning slowly downwards. He didn't say anymore before Rachel turned and ran from the store.

Xx

Lisa decided to leave Dallas early to spend time with her father in Miami. Her mother cried when Lisa called up a cab to take her to the airport, the first time since that morning when her daughter had informed her of her son's existence.

"Lisa," her mother had said as they ate a late breakfast. "What did you ever do with that necklace I gave you?"

Lisa swallowed a bite of her pancakes before speaking. "What necklace?"

"The monogrammed one. The one that was supposed to be for Alex's wife."

Lisa frowned and spoke without thinking. "Alex's wife has it."

"What?" Adriana dropped her fork, and Lisa realized her error.

"Oh my…I can't believe I…"

"Alex is dead, Leese."

"No," Lisa shook her head, rising and putting her cleaned plate in the sink. "No, he's not. Dear God."

Adriana hopped up and looked at her daughter. "Are you sick, baby?"

"Mom," Lisa took a deep breath and cleared her throat before explaining absolutely everything.

When she had finished, Lisa expected nothing less than hysterics. Screaming, crying, maybe even collapsing, angry and upset that Lisa had waited until now to tell her of Alex's existence. Instead, Lisa watched in tense anticipation as Adriana blinked several times, touched her daughter's face, and with a few brief words of explanation, drifted off to her bedroom. The door remained locked until later that evening, when Adriana emerged, tearstained and bedraggled, but considerably stronger than before.

Now, Lisa's mother wrapped a supportive arm around her daughter's shoulders and pulled her to her thin body, leaning her head against Lisa's.

"Baby," she muttered. "Be careful. Please. I don't want to lose another child again, even if it's just make-believe."

Lisa nodded grimly. "I will, Mom. I'll try."

As she slung her bag over her shoulder—a simple duffel filled with necessities, a gift from her mother—Lisa tried not to burst into tears. That would only prove to complicate things further—something she didn't need, not now. Things were difficult enough without the waterworks.

She arrived at the airport half an hour later, because although traffic wasn't bad, the roads were horrendous as a sleek, icy rain began to fall. Lisa grumbled, sourly remembering her last rainy Dallas departure. _Don't think about that. Don't think about _him.

Lisa's plane had been scheduled to take off around seven that night, but as her curious eyes scanned the illuminated board, her heart sank and her mind reeled in nauseating de ja vu. Swearing, she marched straight to the phones. She'd be damned if she waited out another delayed flight in a Texan airport.

_You could go to the Tex Mex, _a voice inside her said, one that was coy and sounded surprisingly like Jackson. She fiercely shook it away, pulling out her wallet. Going back to her mother's house was not an option—she had itchy legs, eager to get to her father's house as soon as possible. Staying in one place was too risky with Jackson inevitably prowling the country looking for her. If she could dart between her parents and then find a house to stay safe in, she might have a chance.

"How much will it cost to rent a car?"

The counter clerk typed some figures into her computer, and then turned back to Lisa. "That would be a hundred dollars a day. Will you be returning it here?"

Lisa shook her head. "Miami."

"One hundred and eighty, then, for the cheapest. Would you like to choose a specific color?"

She jotted a few notes down, and then reached behind her for a set of keys as Lisa forked out the money. Her fingers twitched a bit guiltily on the bills, her _mother's_ bills. _I'll pay her back, _Lisa promised herself. _When I get a steady job, I'll pay her back._

When the clerk was satisfied with a few more questions, Lisa found her rental Sedan and quickly escaped inside of it, her eyes shifting nervously as she browsed the area for anyone suspicious. As soon as traffic was clear, she peeled away from the airport and hopped on the interstate, dialing up her father as she drove.


	7. Chapter 7

"I wish you would tell me what's wrong," Alex muttered later. "I could fix it."

"It's nothing you've done," Rachel sighed, leaning heavily on the car window. "It's just the fact of how your mere existence and my stupidity do not blend well."

Alex frowned at her momentarily, then reaffixed his gaze to the road. "What do you mean?"

She slowly brought her eyes up and leveled them on the road. "This whole situation is horrible. Any other girl would bring her fiancée home, and while her parents may not exactly shower him with good tidings, they also don't want him behind bars. The girl's friends don't try to beat him up or accuse him of raping her."

"I didn't…" Alex shook his head with notable frustration. "What did that asshole say, Rach?"

"He's not…" Rachel began. "He's not an asshole. He's just…."

"Misguided?" Alex smirked. Rachel glared at him.

"_No._ He hates you, Alex. He has good reason to."

Alex held up a hand, willing her to stop. "Now, don't go blaming this situation on me, Rachel. It was just as much your decision as mine."

"I'm not blaming anything on you," she snapped grumpily. "I'm stating the facts. The last time I saw the guy, I had a knife at my throat and he was turning about seven colors a minute. He thought for sure that I was dead. How do you think it would feel, Alex, to go for seven years thinking your best friend was dead? And then seeing them, so much later, doing completely fine?"

"So you guys are best friends now?" Alex snorted. "I just thought he wanted--"

"What?"

He covered his mouth, obviously trying not to laugh. Rachel pushed him, and the car jerked slightly. "Tell me!"

He grinned and muttered immaturely, "I just thought he wanted to get inside your pants."

Rachel's mouth fell open briefly in angry surprise before she shoved him even harder. He swore and reaffirmed his grip on the steering wheel before turning to scowl at her. "What the--"

"I'm not really in the mood for your attitude, Alex!" Rachel said shrilly. "He hasn't done a thing to you--"

"—except trying to steal away my fiancée and, when she refuses, making her feel worthless," Alex snapped. "For making _me_ feel worthless."

"You're intimidated by him."

"No. I'm intimidated by how he has the strange notion that you have feelings for him. You're not his, Rachel, you're mine, and he won't recognize that."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not your property, Alex, I'm your _fiancée."_

Alex bit his lip, obviously attempting to refrain from speaking his mind. Rachel glowered as he coasted the car into the winding driveway that led to an ornate colonial home. She leaned her forehead on the icy windowpane and took a calming breath. She couldn't go in there angry, or things could end up worse than they already were.

They climbed out and walked silently to the door. Rachel pressed the doorbell and as they waited, Alex pulled her to him. She jerked away, and he frowned at her.

"You're doing it again!" she cried. "Acting like I'm your property!"

"I'm holding you," he snapped. "Would you care to tell me what's wrong with touching my fiancée?"

"It's not that you're doing it, it's the way you're doing it," Rachel argued. "Haven't you ever noticed how normal couples just hold hands? You always have to have me right up against you. Did you ever consider that maybe I don't like that?"

Alex shook his head with an irritated growl. "Have you ever considered how uncomfortable it makes me that you associate with garbage like Lou Whitman?"

Rachel reddened. "I told you, Alex, I don't feel anything for Lou. He's a fr--" she paused. Really? Was he a friend? Or had she blown that relationship, too?

Alex sneered, "A friend? Is that what you were going to say? I'm not so sure."

Rachel flushed deeper. "Of course he's just a friend. Why are you acting so jealous? I defended you, didn't I?"

"But is that because you love me, or because you're wearing my ring?"

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. Weren't the two related to each other? She was wearing his ring _because_ she loved him. What was he going on about? Before she could continue, however, the Nolans front door swung curiously open.

Isis, now a striking young teenager, pursed her lips and peered up at the couple before her. "Hi," she said shyly. "Can I help you?"

_Doesn't she recognize me? _Rachel wondered bemusedly. "Isis," she said. "Is uncle Fred home? Do you remember me?"

Isis nodded, then shook her head. "Are you here to interview him?"

"Isis!" a husky voice yelled, and a tall, African-American figure came barreling from behind her. "What have I told you?"

"Oh…yeah," Isis shuffled guiltily backwards into the suited and clearly armed man's hands. "Don't answer the door alone."

"Go do your homework now," he ordered, and Isis obeyed. The man turned his somber black eyes to Alex and Rachel. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Rachel stepped forward as Alex shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'm looking for my uncle, Mr. Nolan."

The man squinted suspiciously at her. "Do you have proper ID on you?"

Rachel frowned, a bit irritated. "Why do you need ID?"

"Listen, if you don't have it, miss, I'm going to have to ask you to lea--"

Sighing heavily, Rachel dug her wallet from her purse and pulled out the thin card. The man studied it, grunted, and handed it back.

"This is false," he said sharply. "Rachel Redford is deceased."

"Charlie," came a heavy voice from the dark room behind the man. "I can handle this one."

"Sir," Charlie spun around nervously. "They could be armed." _Oh, for heaven's sake._

"Then stay here with me," Fred replied simply and stubbornly. "I'm going to end these scams once and for all."

Charlie allowed Nolan in front of him, who arrived with great gusto, exasperation written expressively over his face. "Listen, I don't know if you people are looking for money or attent--" as his tired, lined face fell upon Rachel's confused and upset eyes, he fell short.

"Hi," Rachel said, at a loss for words. "I—I thought I'd let you know I'm home."

"You're dead," Frederick said, shaking his head. "They said you were dead."

"I'm not dead, uncle Freddy," Rachel smiled gently. "I'm right here."

Nolan stumbled from the doorstep, flinging himself at his niece. Rachel leaned into his broad chest and stayed there for a moment as he sobbed. "Rachel, my Rachel."

When he had somewhat recovered, he drew back and wiped his eyes. Rachel nearly grinned mischievously. Had he even noticed Alex yet?

"Please, come in," Nolan said, ignoring Charlie and widening the doorway. Rachel eagerly hopped inside, rubbing her arms against the frigid evening cold.

Rachel glanced at Alex as Nolan bounced inside before her. When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she just shrugged and began to walk inside. Alex hesitantly followed.

Charlie scowled and darted off as Rachel followed the sound of Nolan's feet to the parlor.

"Isis has really grown up," Rachel said honestly. "She looks like you."

Nolan looked up at her, smiling, and it was then that he noticed Alex. Rachel prayed to every deity who might be listening that he not recognize Alex. His smile dissipated into a resentful scowl.

"You," he advanced forward angrily, but Rachel stepped instinctively in front of her fiancée. "Rachel, move."

She was breathless, panicked. "Uncle Freddy, please, let me explai--"

Things happened quickly after that—Rachel slipped as her uncle darted around her. Alex obviously didn't see it coming as Frederick hit Alex squarely in the face. The impact sent him reeling to the floor, sliding to the tiles as he scrambled to find his footing.

Alex finally rose as Nolan stared lividly at him, chest heaving.

Rachel's eyes darting around, first to Nolan' unrelenting glare, and then Alex, blood dripping from his nose, green eyes intense. Finally, they drifted to the blood slowly making a pool on the tiles, unnoticed by anybody but her.

"Alex," Rachel whispered hopefully. "Don't—"

Too late. In a blind fury, her fiancée flew at her uncle, managing to push him to the floor. As Rachel screamed and began to run to split them up, she felt a pair of arms pulling her away. Charlie ran in the room, gun drawn, and managed to yank Alex off her uncle before he swung his fist again.

The person let go, and as Rachel turned, she saw that it was her cousin Michael. He smiled grimly at her. "I didn't want you to get hurt," he muttered gloomily at her. Rachel nodded, as Charlie got a decent hold on the seething Alex.

Alex's nose rivaled Nolan's bleeding lip, and the sound in the room was nearly none spare the heavy breathing that Alex was forced to do from his mouth. Rachel just stared at them.

"How _dare_ you," Nolan hissed. "How _dare_ you show up here, after all these years, after stealing away my niece, and expect to be welcomed into my home with open arms!"

Alex didn't say anything, looking angrily to Rachel for support. She tightened her jaw.

_Explain. Tell them how it is. That you're pregnant and engaged. That you love him._

"What, didn't work the first time so you wanted to try it again?" Nolan shouted. Rachel winced, and felt Michael do the same exact thing next to her. "You want to kill me? Go ahead. But did you have to keep my niece for seven fucking years?"

"Dad--" Michael attempted. Rachel felt tears rising in her throat, constricting her speech. Alex gave her another chance, his eyes read his stubbornness. Her reply would be an affirmation or a smashing of her loyalty.

She knew what she had to do.

Rachel slowly, painfully twisted the ring from her finger and walked to Alex, setting it cleanly in his pocket. "No more," she whispered. "I can't do this anymore."

Nolan and Michael gasped collectively as Alex turned to Rachel, taking her shoulders. She attempted to pull away, but he reaffirmed his control. "You can't do this to me!"

"I think I can."

"Rachel, he--" Alex started difficultly. "He hit me!"

"You hit back."

"So?"

"Alex, I won't do this. I can't keep choosing between you and my family. You keep making me do that. It's not fair to anybody. Not me, not you, not my family, not the baby."

"The baby…?" she heard Nolan whisper.

"So you'll raise it on your own," Alex snorted. "That will work."  
"He needs stability, Alex," Rachel hissed. "Not an assassin father who's never home half the time anyway. Please…please leave."

"I won't leave you again."

Charlie gripped Alex's arm. "The lady asked you to leave. I'm authorized to shoot you if you don't comply."

Alex turned to Rachel, all compassion lost now in an obvious effort to save face. When she looked deep into his eyes, they appeared deadened, hard. "If you let me leave now, Rach, I won't be back."

Rachel fought tears. _Don't do this to yourself, Rachel. Stop him now, while you have the chance._ "So be it."

With no more talk, he ripped himself from Charlie's grasp and stormed from the house. As the front door slammed, there was silence. Rachel touched her face. Her skin was tingling.

_None of this feels real._

She wasn't crying. Why wasn't she crying?

"Rachel," Nolan stepped towards her, and Rachel backed away. First, she backed into Michael again, but upon that contact stumbled away, shaking her head.

"Leave me alone," she hissed.

"Rachel, don't worry about him," her uncle coaxed. "Please, darling, he's horrible, a murderer!"  
Rachel turned, and robot-like, began to run from the house. She ignored her uncle's pleas for her to return, breaking into the cool air and looking around.

Alex was right.

He wouldn't be back this time.


	8. Chapter 8

Rachel walked around the upper-class neighborhood in Albany for two hours before finding a cab and bribing him to take her nearly two hundred miles north. She was listless the whole ride there, leaning blankly on the window. It was a good thing that the cabbie didn't talk much—Rachel wouldn't have known what to say.

It had taken the better part of that walk for her to realize exactly what she'd done. Was it really possible that, for once, she'd taken control of her own life? Touching her barely protruding stomach, Rachel closed her eyes, fighting tears. It was true—she was going to slip under that cliché. A young, single, pregnant woman who hadn't finished high school, living with her parents. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was better than continuing to live with the constant worry and guilt that ensconced her with Alex.

"Lady," the cabbie snapped, and by the annoyed tone of his voice, Rachel knew it wasn't for the first time.

"Sorry." Rachel scrambled for her shed coat on the ripped seat cushion, but paused. Looking out the frosted window at her parents' darkened house, she bit her lip. "Actually…" She rattled off another address. The cabbie tossed a stream of muttered obscenities at her before growling how much it was going to cost her. He tore out of the driveway, and Rachel felt her nails digging into her leg.

When the rundown car finally pulled to a jerking stop outside the small yellow house, Rachel briefly questioned her sanity.

"I'll be right back."

What was she thinking? There was little chance that he would be here, and even less that he would welcome her. She took a deep breath and rapped loudly on the door.

It swung open several moments later, and Rachel was greeted by a half-asleep, half-naked man dressed only in black pajama pants. The noise of the cabbie's horn jostled his eyes open.

Lou was obviously frustrated, not to mention extremely surprised. "Rachel—it's after midnight. What are you doing here?" He squinted at the cab behind her.

"I didn't…I didn't have a place to go," Rachel muttered, her cheeks pink. The cabbie honked again. Lou retreated back into the house and returned a moment later with his wallet.

"You don't have to--"

"If you had money on you, he'd be gone by now," Lou snapped, moving past her and tossing a few crumpled bills at the driver. He sped away, and Rachel cringed. Lou stood there for a moment as she became increasingly aware of his bare chest.

"I'm going inside," he said simply. "Are you coming?"

Rachel averted her eyes to the snow-covered ground and stumbled after Lou. He let her in and locked the door, and then disappeared down the hall without a word.

Lou returned a moment later with a wrinkled white t-shirt tossed haphazardly over his toned chest. Rachel peeled off her coat but clung tightly to it before he beckoned her into the kitchen.

He clicked on the light and set a kettle on the stove. Rubbing his eyes, Lou slid into a bench next to the table and Rachel sat gingerly across from him. He kneaded his hands together before Rachel spoke.

"I wasn't sure if I would find you here," she murmured. "Are your par--"

"My father died last year," Lou mumbled. "Cancer. He left the house to me in his will. Mom moved to Delaware shortly after."

"Oh—I'm so sorry," Rachel replied truthfully.

"Enough with this," Lou sighed. "Why are you here?"

"I told you already, I don't ha--"

Apparently making a feeble attempt at disinterest, Lou snapped, "Where's _Alex?_ Why aren't you with the god of all gods?"

"Be nice," Rachel whispered, feeling the familiar throat clenching as she thought of him again. "We—I…I ended things."

Lou frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. I ended our relationship. It was all getting just too…too complicated and hard. I was sick of choosing between him and you and my family."

He gulped hard, and Rachel focused on the way his Adam's apple bounced heavily in his neck rather than the own reality she was having difficultly swallowing. "When did this happen?"

"About four hours ago."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

There was uneasy silence for a few moments as Rachel quietly circled her palm with her thumb. "Why didn't you go home?"

"I didn't really…I'm kind of mad, you know? In a way I blame my uncle for all of this, this whole problem, but mostly for the recent one, and I know he'll have called my parents by now. I don't want to talk about it, not yet, anyway."

"I think I understand," Lou replied, all evident anger dissipated. "So you need a place to stay, then."

She nodded listlessly and without a word, Lou left her alone in the kitchen. When he returned a few minutes later, he held in his hand a plain white tee shirt and some pajama pants. Rachel caught them weakly as he tossed them to her and she looked up.

"I made up a bed for you on the couch," he said, and then, a bit apologetically, "Sorry I can't do better than that, but if you saw the state of my mattress, you'd definitely choose the couch, anyway."

Rachel forced a pained smile and gratefully accepted the directions that Lou offered her to the bathroom down the hall. She changed quickly, forcing herself not to look at her sickly reflection in the mirror. When she was finished, she stumbled awkwardly back to where Lou leaned sleepily against the wall in the hallway.

Stifling a few yawns, he led her back to the small living room where Rachel perched gingerly on the lumpy sofa as she bid Lou good night.

"If you need anything, I'll be right down here," he said, gesturing down the hall to his bedroom. Rachel nodded and Lou turned off the light. As he walked away from her in the darkness, she heard him add softly, "And when you're ready to talk, I'll be here."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! This is a rather short chapter, a bit of a filler, but the next will be longer, I promise!**

"So where is she?"

"In the bathroom. Her flight back to her father's leaves in half an hour."

"And you'll confront her on the plane. How very nostalgic of you." Jackson detected a hint of bitterness and annoyance in Alex's voice and decided to confront him on it.

"Are you all right?"

There was a long pause, and Jackson pulled the phone away from his ear, his first thought being that his call had been dropped. He began to mutter a, "Damn Verizon…" when Alex finally spoke.

"I'm fine." It was short and tense.

"And Rachel?" Innocent, yet instinctively Jackson knew Alex's irritation would have to deal with her. Rachel tended to be a bit feisty, Jackson had noticed, on the rare occasions that he had to deal with her, and her pregnancy-irritated hormones wouldn't help matters.

"I wouldn't know. Do I look like her keeper?"

Yes, something was definitely wrong and it definitely involved Rachel, Jackson was sure. Not that he cared much, but he was sure. "No, you look like her _fiancée._ What happened?"

"I'm not her fiancée, not anymore. She decided that she was too damn good for me and ended the whole thing."

Jackson paused, not quite sure what to say next. He could be supportive and apologetic, but that wasn't his style. Or he could be vengeful and tell Alex how stupid Rachel was, but he liked Rachel. If he was too harsh on her, Alex could end up with some typical Brooklyn bimbo. The last option was to crack down on Alex, tell him to go back to her and force her back to the island, which, in all honesty, is what Jackson himself would have done. But he didn't want to lose Alex's friendship. "So…what are you going to do?"

"I can't do anything at all," Alex snapped. "I'm sick of forcing her into everything. I'm tired. I just want to forget all of this. I can't keep wishing that she'll come crawling back to me, so I'm just going to go home." Jackson frowned disapprovingly. That was it? He was just going to give up on the girl?

He desperately wanted to say more, but the risk of losing Alex's acquaintance stopped him. He cleared his throat and grunted, "Okay, then. I guess…I'll see you later."

"Yeah." They hung up, and Jackson wished he hadn't come off as so…uncaring. This was one of the few situations he did care about, and yet he couldn't even express a single word of sympathy. He sighed and pocketed the device as an announcement regarding his plane's arrival stirred him to action. Heaving his weighty laptop bag over his shoulder, he quickly began to stride to the plane. He saw Lisa nervously, briskly walking about two meters in front of him and grinned.

He couldn't change the situation with Alex, but he could certainly amend the Lisa problem.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisa made it to her seat with about five minutes to spare, pleased with how cleanly everything was operating tonight. The plane was taking a light load tonight, or so the flight attendant who led her onboard informed her. Under booked. Lisa took this as an attribute to her advantage. The less people there were, the safer things would be.

She was seated next to a husky man in jeans and a polo shirt, who was reading a thick novel that, judging by the worn cover, was a murder mystery. Lisa rolled her eyes but smiled at the man as he let her pass. She wasted no time in making herself comfortable, holding a pillow on her lap rather than placing it behind her head. Within a few minutes, she heard the monotonous pre-flight instructions, and then the wheels began to roll.

Her eyes were closed and her head pressed against the back of her seat when her seatmate spoke. "So, where are you headed, Miss? Home? Or away from home?"

Lisa wanted more than anything to merely slap the man for rousing her, but she forced a smile and opened her eyes. "Away." With a sudden gut-wrenching sense of panic, Lisa prayed the man wouldn't recognize her as, technically, the fugitive she was. Of course, she'd been declared dead six years ago, and her appearance _had_ changed a little bit, but some people could just pick up on these things. She glanced at her purse, which had carryon tags with her mother's name on them, and breathed, forcing herself to keep a straight face. "You?"

"Same."

Lisa looked up then, only to find him staring intently at her. She gave a weak grin back, and then looked away. A moment later, when she lifted her head again to take a sip of her water, his face had not changed.

"Can I help you?" she offered a bit snappishly. Without pulling his gaze away, he slid something onto her tray table. She took a look at it.

"Oh, God."


	10. Chapter 10

"He's pressing charges."

"Who is?"

"The bitch's uncle. Breaking and entering, harassment, kidnapping…take your pick. You can't get out of this. Come back now, Alex, and spare yourself the trouble."

"First of all, Mikail, don't call her that. Second of all, do you really think I'm that much of a coward?" Alex growled. "I'm not coming back. And how do you know about this anyway?"

"I search the police log daily, Reisert," Mikail snapped. "That's my job. Why aren't you with her now, anyway? How did she get away?"

Alex felt the familiar twist in his gut that he had been getting recently when Rachel's name appeared in his mind. He gritted his teeth and said, "She didn't get away. We…broke up."

"I thought you were getting married."

Alex ignored this. "Listen, does Jackson know about this?"

"I don't think so. He's in the air now, doesn't get coverage. I'll call him when we land. As for you, either get into hiding or turn yourself in. Where are you now?"

"Waiting for my flight back to Africa," Alex replied, pacing the tiled airport floor. "It leaves in half an hour. Do you think I'll be okay until then?"

"What state are you in?"

"Pennsylvania."

"I think you'll be fine," Mikail answered after a pause. "Just don't draw too much attention, okay?"

Alex hung up and had to laugh at the irony of the situation. For the first time in over six years, he wondered what his mother would think. He'd thought about her, of course, and maybe someday going back to visit her, but the shame of what he'd become always made him cringe and terminate the idea. Now it was worse. He wondered what she would think if she knew _both_ of her children were on the Most Wanted list. He sighed, sucked in some air, and picked up his bag, ready to go back to life before his world was turned upside down. His life before Rachel.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The two of you bear a certain likeness, as I'm sure you've noticed," Lisa's seatmate said mockingly. "The eyes, though naturally his are more astonishing to a certain degree. Lovely family, really."

"Where. Did. You. Get. That." Lisa hissed through clenched teeth, her fists balled up in her lap.

"It's not that hard," he replied innocently. "His picture is everywhere now. Did you know he's wanted in over eleven states?"

Lisa blinked. Alex? Why? What more could he possibly have done? Granted, there were the kidnapping and assault charges he held from six years ago, but wasn't Rachel working on her family's defenses to lift those? What could have happened? This man had to be bluffing. He _had_ to be. "You're a liar. He's fine, he's--"

"He may be fine now, but will he be?" the man gripped Lisa's arm and she shuddered. "Or let me rephrase that. Will his _wife_ be?"

Rachel. Oh, no, Rachel. Lisa glared at him. "What have you done to her?"

"Absolutely nothing. Yet. She's in New York with her new little boyfriend, or whatever, but we need Alex."

"What?" Lisa closed her eyes. No, this wasn't happening to her. Not _again._

"Ms. Reisert," he sighed, "The United States government isn't the only body that wants him dead. He failed, all those years ago, in murdering Frederick Nolan. One of our workers spotted him entering the Nolan residence with that girl. We know he doesn't plan to finish the job, so we have to finish _our_ job and end him."

"Well, that's good for you," Lisa spat, praying he wouldn't ask the inevitable of her.

"That's where you come in." Her hopes deflated and she shook her head.

"I don't know where he is. Honestly, I haven't spoken to him in days."

"See, this is where I curse the inability of the human mind to be telepathic," her seatmate argued calmly. "If only I could tell what that little brain of yours is working out. Or hiding. But luckily, we hold the miracle of technology that gives us airplane telephones."

Lisa shook her head furiously, knowing exactly what he was asking. "Absolutely _not!_ Do you think I'm that stupid, to lure my brother to you? Are you out of your _mind_?"

"I'm not, and I didn't think you were, either," the man replied evenly. "It's your choice. You can sacrifice your brother to save a pregnant girl's life, or you can have her killed for the sake of familial bondage. Your pick."

Lisa no longer battled the pinpricks of tears quivering at the corners of her eyes, letting them spill freely over her cheeks. "Why are you doing this?"

"I already told you. Now are you going to call your brother, or do I have to call the killer lurking near where Rachel is sleeping tonight?"

Lisa closed her eyes a moment and thought. On that fateful red-eye with which she had been acquainted with Jackson, what had she done? Similar circumstances, except for the big problem here was that she loved both Alex and Rachel. She paused. _Call Rachel._ "I need to speak with Rachel first."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel's cell phone buzzed just as the faint glow of dawn was beginning to peak through Lou's curtains. She grunted and pulled herself off the couch, frustrated. She grabbed her phone and briefly checked the time before flipping it open. Six thirty. Fantastic. That meant she'd gained a whole two hours of sleep. "Hello?" she grumbled.

"Rachel?"

Rachel woke up a bit more at hearing the familiar voice. "Leese? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm…" there was a long pause, and Rachel tapped her phone. "I'm fine. Where are you?"

"At Lou's house," Rachel replied quietly, ashamedly. "Did you…did you hear about what happened?"

"No, what?" Rachel thought she heard a gruff 'hurry it up' in the background of Lisa's conversation, which gave her the sudden idea that maybe Lisa was using a payphone.

"I broke up with him. It's a long story, but I couldn't go home, so I'm staying with Lou."

"Oh." Lisa sounded upset, but Rachel had a feeling it wasn't because of the news. Her distracted tone hinted otherwise.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I have to go, Rach," Lisa replied, her voice strained. "I'll call you later."

"Okay, by--" Lisa had already hung up. Rachel sighed and replaced her phone in her purse. She sat on the messy couch for a moment before she decided she wouldn't get any more sleep that night and stood up. Moving to the window, she drew back the curtains and peered outside into the bluish morning.

The street was quiet, spare a few early-morning commuters and the occasional jogging athlete. Rachel breathed, relaxing her posture, and then tensing when she saw an unfamiliar car parked across the street. Granted, she didn't know this neighborhood well, but the car, for some reason, seemed out of place, peculiar.

When a hand fell on her shoulder a moment later, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "God, Lou, don't do that to me."

He grinned sleepily, yawning. "Sorry. What's wrong?"

"Did I wake you up?"

"Your phone did. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded solemnly. "An old friend checking up on me."

Lou scowled. "Rocher?"

"No, not Alex. His sister, Lisa. She's nothing like him, though."

"Yeah," Lou grunted dismissively, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I'm up. Want some breakfast or something?"

Rachel obliged, and Lou retreated into the kitchen. Within moments the air was filled with a delicious yet unrecognizable scent and Rachel was sitting absently on the couch when she heard Lou yell, "I'll be right back! I'm going to go outside and grab the paper."

She paid no mind to his remark until she heard the door fly open a moment later and Lou's harried footsteps into the living room. Leaping from the couch in a frenzied worry, Rachel cried, "What?"

Lou pointed to the paper, where a black and white picture of Alex graced the headlines. "Look."

Rachel collapsed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Suspicions confirmed?" Lisa's seatmate scowled, replacing the phone in its hook with an angry flourish. "Now call your brother."

Lisa felt teary but searched for any possible detours, distractions. "I—I don't know his number."

"I do."

"Then why do I have to call?"

"Do you really think he'd give his location to _me?_" the assassin hissed. "Just do it. We're running out of time."

He was right. The plane would land in an hour, and it was obvious he was growing frustrated. Lisa had spent the last two hours dallying and trying to put off the inevitable, culminating in a second call to Rachel that went unanswered. Now, there was nothing else to be done except try and bluff her way through a call to Alex. She picked up the phone. Then she smiled inwardly.

"Uh--"

Her seatmate turned his head then to glance at her dilemma. "_Dammit!_"

No service. No freaking service. Thank God. Lisa replaced the phone. "Sorry."

The assassin gripped her arm shoving it against the armrest as a result of his fury. "Fucking right you're sorry! As soon as we land, you make that call or Rachel Redford will die!"

"Excuse me," a shadow fell over the secretly battling two and Lisa looked up. It took all of her strength not to faint then and there. "Is there a problem here?"

"No," the assassin said, straightening and not looking at Jackson. "Everything is fine."

"You are a terrible liar," Jackson spat, then nodded cordially at Lisa, as if nothing had happened at all. "Lisa."

She went along with his charade. "Jackson."

The assassin frowned. "What--" Then he looked up. "Shit."

"Yes, for once your use of profanity is entirely justified," Jackson replied sullenly. "Do you realize how much trouble you're currently in?"

"What's going on?" Lisa interrupted curiously.

Jackson coolly ignored her. "Did those negotiations in Leeds mean _nothing_ to you?"

"Don't shoot the messenger," Lisa's seatmate replied, his head down. "Just following orders."

"Jackson?"

For the first time, Jackson regarded her. "His boss screwed me over. We met awhile ago and had decided, or so I thought, to put the past behind us. Money exchanged hands and I thought it was mutually understood that your brother was off the hook."

Lisa looked around, making sure that nobody was looking before quietly saying to Jackson, "So you paid them off to save my brother?"

"Basically."

A flight attendant happened to stroll by then, and touched the standing Jackson on his arm. "Sir? Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Jackson leveled his eyes on the assassin. "I was just talking to my girlfriend before we return to our seats."

Lisa bit her lip. One problem taken care of, another on the way. The flight attendant glided past, and Jackson hissed at the assassin, "Have your boss contact me immediately. Call him now, and inform him that if he refuses to lift the guard from Rachel Redford immediately, his actions will be met with extreme consequences." The assassin nodded dourly.

"Lisa," she looked up. Jackson's face was grave but calm. "Come with me."

She couldn't very well refuse, not after what he'd done for her. She stood on shaking limbs and grabbed her purse, making sure to 'accidentally' kick the assassin on her way out. She followed Jackson down the aisle to his seat near the back of the plane. The spot next to him was empty, and she sighed as he escorted her to it.

Lisa strapped herself back in and clung to the bag in her lap, looking out the window at the coming morning rather than at Jackson's face. He spoke first.

"Why did you run away?"

"Why do you think I ran away?" she sighed. "I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take the situation. I was so isolated, Jackson. You were never there, the only person I ever had to talk to was Rachel."

"Well, Lis--"

"And I didn't even have time to _recover!_" Lisa continued, on a roll. "I mean, it's just…everything happened so quickly. The flight, and then you kidnapped me, and then I was arrested, and then I was kidnapped again! And although I admit an island paradise home is a pretty damn good place to unwind, it's hard when you're still an international fugitive!"

Jackson paused, as if waiting for a storm to pass. When Lisa looked at him, he spoke. "I really am sorry, Lisa. But really. What did you expect me to do? I could have left you. I didn't have to take you with me and I shouldn't be back here now, but I did and I am. And it's not because I feel obligated to you by any means."

"So then why are you here?" Lisa snapped. "Why are you here, and why did you help my brother?"

"Two separate questions require two separate answers," Jackson said patiently. "I helped your brother because, Leese, as much as both of us hate to admit it, he is my best friend."

His best friend. Lisa couldn't help but feel touched by that simple statement. Jackson Rippner and her brother. For some reason, it seemed like two alternate universes. When she pictured shy, sweet Alex Reisert of all those years ago with an assassin, working with him, laughing with him, it made her cringe. But then she realized she was looking at it the wrong way. It was Alec Rocher with an assassin, not Alex. Alex was paired with Jackson, a man who, although he appeared tough on the exterior, was really human deep down after all.

"And as for you…"

"Wait," Lisa said quietly. "Jackson. I just realized. I love you."

He blinked, but for some reason didn't seem taken aback. "I know," he replied slowly. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"What--"

"That's why you ran away, isn't it?"

"Because I was…"

"…battling what you knew you felt but weren't quite sure how to act upon," Jackson finished, "and feeling the pressure weighing down from every corner of that house."

Lisa shook her head. _Yes._ Yes! Why hadn't this occurred to her? Naturally, her feelings had occurred to her before, but how could she have been so stupid to brush them off, and for what? Security? Certainly not. She was safer with Jackson than in the States. Her family? Absurd. They could visit her. Things would have quieted down and—

She paused. Was she merely getting in over her head and jumping to rectify things with Jackson, now that he had caught her? Was she high off recycled air? Or was she really, truly, coming to her senses?

"Lisa?"

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"I never told you," Jackson said as she lifted her chin. "What you said before, about loving me?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

It was the first time, the only time he'd ever said that, spare that time six years ago in the bathroom of the apartment. But that had been artificial, a fluke used to sway her. Looking into his eyes now, Lisa saw something entirely different, an artifact she'd never discovered before. Before, his eyes had always been a harsh blue, scary and intimidating. Now, though, they were soft, slightly delirious-looking, and so much of the blue was gone that, although they were still bright and lovely, they weren't so frightening.

They didn't kiss that time. They saved it, a mutual acknowledgement that the physical side of their relationship was over. Instead, they held hands and clung to each other as the plane began to descend. A new wind was blowing in, carrying the plane to a rolling stop on the tarmac as they landed, but also transporting a new age. Lisa knew she wasn't a captive anymore, and she knew that for once, things were going to be okay.

**Author's Note: I _know_** **I said only ten chapters, and I know that this really does seem like an ending, but it's not. I have a few more in store, and I apologize. Thanks to any readers/reviewers. :D **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: A big thank you to my reviewers! **

Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Upstate New York

One year later

Rachel slowly slid her finger along the smooth, silky lock of hair and gently extracted her hand from the crib as Adriana stirred in her sleep. She gave the baby's head one more tender caress before turning and walking slowly from the room.

The hallway was dark, not really a surprise as it was barely three in the morning. Lou's heavy breathing was audible through the open bedroom door, so Rachel shut it before venturing back down the corridor.

She went outside, grabbing her jacket from the hook near the door as she slipped past. The night from the view on the porch was still, the only sound being the groaning of the trees as the heavily falling snow weighed them down. Rachel perched in a rocking chair, staring out into the darkness.

It struck her suddenly how quickly time had passed. Had it really been an entire year since she'd last seen Alex? In person, anyway, his picture had been on the news for months after he'd been declared a fugitive. He'd never been caught, of course, Rachel never thought he would be, and despite Lou's obvious displeasure that the 'dirty asshole' hadn't been incarcerated, Rachel was secretly pleased. And, although she hated to admit it, a little proud.

She knew that she didn't want to marry Lou. She didn't want to be married to anybody at the moment. But she'd felt pressured, even though her obligation was never verbally spoken, by the commitment Lou had made to her and the sideways glances her parents' gave to her protruding stomach.

The stomach was gone now, replaced by a pink, squealing little girl named Adriana. Lou hadn't held a part in naming the child, and because Rachel felt inclined to name the girl something Alex would have been proud of, she was christened Adriana Amelia Reisert Redford. Lou had expressed interest in adding his surname onto Addy's when she was older, but Rachel wasn't sure. She liked the way the initials were AR, like Alex's, and like the necklace. When she was sixteen, Rachel decided, the necklace would be given to her. It was what Alex would have wanted.

Rachel's stomach contorted into knots when she realized she could count on her fingers the weeks until the wedding. Three weeks and two days, to be exact, and she was terrified. Lou was a wonderful man, there was no doubt about it, and it was clear that he really, truly loved her, but she could never feel the same about anybody else. She tried, she worked so hard at it, but nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Lisa and Jackson were absolutely thrilled, or rather, Lisa was thrilled, to discover they were the godparents of Adriana. Lou hadn't been happy that his soon-to-be stepdaughter's godfather was a murderer, but Rachel refused to have it any other way. Lisa was her very best friend and, despite the distance, closest confidante.

From the garbled interpretations of what Lisa had transmitted to her over the phone, Rachel discovered that she'd returned with Jackson to the island. An unprepared tribal priest had married the two in a frenzy the night they'd returned, and although Lisa had been in contact with her parents, Adriana's grandparents, she hadn't made the trip back home to visit yet.

Rachel had chanced a trip to Miami with Adriana when she was five months old. She hadn't brought Lou with her, as she herself had never even met Joseph Reisert. He was certainly a pleasant gentleman, as was his ex-wife, but the two seemed a bit reserved. Rachel couldn't blame them. Alex hadn't been in touch, so it seemed a bit odd that his ex-girlfriend should show up with his child in tow.

She was on speaking terms with her family again. Dinner parties were long and boring as always, but at least there weren't any more shouting matches like there were at the first New Years' and Easter bashes. Rachel was civil, her parents worried, and her uncle tried to win his niece over again. She relented some, but relations were a lot icier than they had been in the past.

Rachel reached into the pocket of her coat and mechanically pulled out the necklace. The silver was tarnished and in some places chipped, but it was still as lovely as the day she'd first set eyes on it. She rubbed her eyes, brushing away the freezing tears. "What's past is past," she murmured aloud to herself. "You need to accept that nothing is going to change."

Something still felt off-kilter, and try as she might to ignore it, Rachel still felt that there was some sort of unfinished business. It was then that she remembered that Alex's sports jacket was still hanging in the hall closet.

Maybe that wasn't it, maybe she just still hadn't moved on from Alex yet. But by returning him his coat and wiping away every trace of his being, she could begin to start a new life. Rachel stood and walked back inside. There she pulled the musty old jacket from its hook and folded it into a square, pressing it to her chest as she thought.

She could mail it, but she had no idea what the address was. Her heart knew the tiny island of course, even after a year she could remember it's location, but what would she put on a mailing envelope? 'Alex's House, some island off the coast of Africa?' No. She knew what she had to do, and she knew what she couldn't do. She couldn't tell Lou.

Instead, she sat at the table and penned a brief note explaining that she had gone away for a few days. She wrote that she was sorry she hadn't informed him, but this was something that needed to be done for the sake of her sanity. Once she finished, she stuck the note under a magnet on the refrigerator and tiptoed to her daughter's room. Once there, she packed Addy's bag with a few changes of clothes and the necessities. Rachel decided not to risk waking Lou by going back for her own things, deciding that she could change into something back at the house in Africa. When all the hasty packing was completed, Rachel gingerly scooped the baby from her crib and eased a coat and some shoes on the child and put her in her sling.

She made a quick choice not to take Lou's car, instead flagging down a taxi to transport her to the airport. At the airport, she paid the fare with her credit card and was on a connecting flight to Africa by five that morning.

On the plane, Rachel leaned back in her seat with Adriana on her lap, trying to get some rest. What was to come in the next few days would take a lot of strength and a lot of dignity. She wasn't going to let her fixation with Alex Reisert take over her life. Things were going to end one way or the other now, and she was going to make damn sure of it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wasn't there.

Rachel hadn't thought he would be, and she was glad that her suspicions were correct. Facing him would be more difficult, stirring up the feelings she had left for him. No, it was better this way: she would write an explanation in a note. God knows she was getting good at doing that, at least.

She'd penned a short snippet of an elucidation, a finalization of her feelings, and was twisting open the doorknob to head back outside when it instead swung open in her face, nearly knocking Adriana from her sling. "Oh!"

Rachel made sure that her daughter was righted and secure in her sling before anxiously looking up into the eyes of the visitor. Every part of her expected it to be Jackson, but instead, her eyes fell upon the face of the one that had been so familiar in the past but now seemed so distant.

For one, his eyes weren't the same vivid green. They were still beautiful and breathtaking, but not as vibrant as they used to be. His scar had faded some, also, now no longer the angry red but a relaxed pink line darting from his hairline to his lip. And because he'd lost a lot of weight, his face was slightly gaunt-looking and extremely exhausted.

"Rachel?" Alex murmured, cocking his head at her as if not entirely sure that she wasn't a mirage. "Is that you?"

"Hi," she replied stupidly. "I just—I just came by to drop off a few things, and well, I probably better be goin--"

Alex ignored her, his gaze resting upon the baby curled against Rachel's chest. "God, Rach, she's—she's so pretty. What's her name? Can I hold her?"

Rachel wasn't sure how to respond, so she unhooked the child and gently placed her in her father's arms. "Adriana."

Alex looked at Rachel seriously, a smile forming. "Like my mom?"

"Yeah." And then, nervously and feeling like she owed him some sort of explanation, "I've been in touch with them. Your parents. I thought it would be the right thing to do, you know. I wanted Addy to know her grandparents."

Alex nodded distantly, rocking the girl in his arms as she easily relaxed against him. "She's so, so beautiful," Alex said again, and then added quietly, "She looks like you."

"She has your eyes."

Alex grinned. "I see that."

Rachel fidgeted awkwardly. "I don't—I don't mean to be rude, but we probably better be going."

Alex handed Adriana back to her, disappointed. "Do you really have to? Who are you staying with? You're not living alone, are you?"

Rachel hesitated before muttering back, "Uh—no, I'm not. I don't know if you know him. Lou Whitman."

There was a long silence before Alex asked a bit snappishly, "Are you two…_together_ now or something?"

'We're engaged,' was what she should of said, but instead Rachel found her own mouth betraying her when she replied, "Something like that."

Alex took a deep breath. "How did you get here?"

"Plane. Boat. Same way you get here."

"I mean, does that bas—does Lou know you're here?"

Rachel ignored his near-profanity before replying, "I left him a note."

Alex stepped past her to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the stove to boil. "You know, if you wanted to stay for dinner, I wouldn't mind. That way you don't have to eat on the plane or whatever."

Again, her mouth spoke the words her brain was telling her not to. "Okay."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Here we have it, then, the last chapter in this story. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think. All feedback is welcome. 

Rachel dried her hands on a towel in the bathroom and drew in her breath as she heard Alex's footsteps falter near the bulletin board where she'd left her message. _Oh, God,_ she realized, _he's going to read that. That was meant for him to read _after _I'd left. Dammit, Redford, now you're in it deep._

"Rachel?" she heard Alex call hesitantly from outside the door. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

"What's up?" she said, her voice shaking audibly despite the air of nonchalance that she attempted to assume.

He bit his lip and held up the note. "I…I found this."

"Oh." Rachel moved to the bed where the baby was surrounded by a makeshift fort of pillows, a false crib. She stretched out her arms to scoop up the sleeping child but Alex took her shoulder and spun her around, a bit more forcefully than she'd expected, even from him.

"Don't pick her up," he snapped. "Don't use her as a buffer."

"What's your problem?" Rachel hissed. "You were being so nice before."

"Before I found this!" Alex waved it in her face and she closed her eyes.

"You weren't supposed to find that until later," Rachel said slowly. "I didn't--"

"Why are you with him?"

"What?"

Alex shook her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. The frames hanging on it rattled, and Rachel let out a grunt of pain. "Why are you with Lou Whitman if you don't love him?"

"I didn't say that, I said--"

"You _said you loved me_!" he cried. "I'm not illiterate, Rach, I know what this says and I'd like to know why the fuck you left me if you still have feelings for me."

"Well, it shouldn't matter anyway," she spat vengefully. "You said you were through with me if I left that time."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but then paused and snatched Rachel's arm, leading her out to the living room and shutting the bedroom door behind him. Once there, he let go of her and she stumbled away. There was a long pause before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was considerably calmer. "I never stopped loving you, Rachel. I thought I could push everything aside and spare the hassle, but I was wrong. It was just a hiatus. You've seen it now, we can go back to norm--"

"It was not a hiatus," Rachel barked. "It's over, it's still over, I just thought you should see your daughter. Obviously doing this was a mistake, so I should be going now." She tried to move past him, back to the bedroom to retrieve their daughter, but this time he grew violent and shoved her harshly against the wall.

"You _are not leaving_!" he yelled. "You didn't think I'd be here, and don't even try to lie to me. You didn't come here just so I could see Adriana, you came here to leave that note explaining how you felt!"

"I'll always feel that way, Alex," Rachel said. "But you just don't get it! I _can't_ love you. I don't want to love you. I never stopped caring for you either, but the fact of the matter is that it's just too difficult to be together."

"You don't get to choose who you fall in love with, Rachel," Alex cried. "It doesn't work that way. You know, not everything can be chosen by the head. Some things have to come from _here_." He tapped his chest.

"No," Rachel said, her voice cracking. "No, they _don't."_ That was it. Tears flooded her eyes and she cried, the salty liquid spilling down her cheeks and soaking her collar.

Alex used his finger to wipe away the tears from her cheeks and try as she might to tell her feet to move, to tell her hand to slap his away, she couldn't. Her stomach ached and she kept crying and her head leaned on Alex's shoulder. And his hands met the small of her back and he comforted her, genuinely comforted her as if he was sorry for the pain he had caused. He didn't stop there, though, because then he said it, too, he vocalized his anguish. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" she moaned, her voice muffled in his sweater. "Why am I doing this? I'm engaged. I can't do this."

She felt Alex stiffen slightly at the revelation, but then he relaxed. "Yes, you can. He'll understand, Rachel. He'll have to."

"But I--" Rachel stopped talking, stopped her protestations altogether as he kissed her, gathering her lips in his and nearly making her breathing stop at once. She leaned into him and let out a little sigh while the kiss seemed to last for hours. When they finally pulled apart, her mind was made up.

Alex was right. She couldn't change her feelings or alter them to please her family. She could only run with what emotion she had and choose for her heart. Lou wasn't the man for her, so that meant she obviously wasn't for him. There would be others in his life, he just hadn't found them yet. She was done making excuses for how she felt, and now Rachel was ready to face the truth and accept whatever consequences may come.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

Alex nodded, indicating that he recognized what she was saying as a commitment. He took her hand and guided her to the porch. "Wait here."

Rachel sat gingerly down in a hanging lounge chair, her feet tapping to the rhythm of the waves gliding smoothly ashore. Alex returned a moment later with Adriana in his arms. He joined her on the chair and set their daughter between them as he wrapped his arm around the back of the seat, protecting both Adriana and Rachel.

"See," he said simply, and Rachel looked at him.

"What?"  
"Just look around you," he continued. "At how perfect it is." She did so, at her daughter and Alex, and at the lovely ocean, then the perfect azure sky.

"It is perfect."

"But it won't always be," he added. "You can't get accustomed to it. You have to accept that there will be problems, blemishes every so often."

Rachel smiled. "I'll try."

"And you're sure?"

She nodded and answered, this time without hesitation. "I'm sure."

Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, sliding it back onto Rachel's finger. "Then let's start this over."

Rachel didn't answer, just kissed him lightly on the cheek and leaned back in her seat, her head nestling his arm. She laughed as Adriana cooed when the spray from the ocean hit her face. Looking into the baby's eyes, Alex's eyes, she felt content with her decision. Not happy, not pleased, but content.

And that was when she realized how the world worked. You couldn't always hope for happiness. You couldn't wish for what you couldn't have. No, you had to be comfortable with what you had, because after all, happiness was really only relative to an emotion. Happiness wasn't something you prayed for because then it wouldn't come. Everybody had the potential for that feeling.

Some just didn't know how to achieve it.

And Rachel, sitting silently on the porch with her fiancée and daughter beside her, felt that she finally had that knowledge.

A/N: Le sob. Thank you for reading, everybody, it's been a fantastic ride for me, both with Why Stop Now? And Happiness is Only Relative. It'll be hard to let these characters go, but I will nevertheless. Thanks so much for all your support; it really does make all the difference! See you around!


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